How would you remember yourself if today was your last day?

Oh god, not Nickelback.

Though I do love a good awkward percentage of a foot-ball player.

I’m sorry that elaborate pun made no sense.

Anyways, I have just been thinking about this while frantically studying for my 6 billion tests and trying to catch up with the millions of activities that I am trying to organize or partake in: what will you actually be remembered for when you’re gone? What will you remember of yourself?

I know the thoughts rather cliché but it’s probably so commonly asked because it’s a genuine human fear: disappearing without a trace of anyone even knowing what the ultimate goal was of your existence. And that’s a scary thought, leaving only an empty body and not much creation in the world. Like cats, we humans have this constant need to leave our mark everywhere. Unlike cats it’s not scent, but music, art, buildings, dreams, freedom. So unlike a dog, that wants to pee on underneath a statue, we people have this constant need to be seen on that statue- our bodies framed for years. Our legacy living on. But it just can’t possibly happen for everyone in the world, which is a sad reality. Because if everyone in the world was inventing something beautiful, moving everything forward, there would be no true progress, it would be like the neutral mode of simply existing would be creating so satisfaction would completely disintegrate, vanish into pieces.  Millions of people in the world have been missing, people have been gone, isolated- and ultimately missed by others. But this disappearance, how does it feel? What happens? Where do they go?

It’s ridiculous, all the mystery in the world. Disappearing, to others you have become nothing. But what if without the disappearance, without leaving you’ve also become nothing? I’m talking about, what if your legacy, who you are, your books your stories, just never happened. Your life is erased.

What if we were never motivated enough to create anything? And we left, away- knowing that we had virtual emptiness on our plate.

Yet we apathetically, lethargically, sit and remain bored. Is it because our souls are too fulfilled and have absorbed so much knowledge about life that we can safely say very existence doesn’t stimulate us enough?

No, we’re bored because we aren’t creating. Do we create too much to try and fulfill ourselves from an obsession of living without fear? Or the fear of living a life with boredom?

It’s the ultimate human struggle, which is why it’s important to Carpe Diem it up, however what exactly does that even mean?

I mean constant efficacy results in no breath.

I’m trying to figure out the balance, I guess. It seems obvious, but not really. I guess the struggle is, disheartening, thought of the person that does or stresses- not that person that makes, creates, loves.

I think we’re all still trying to figure out our sense of drive vs. our limitation of time.

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